Good Night
by Tuuli
Summary: Justin's thoughts about Brian and love.


"Good night."  
  
He was holding me, lying in his bed with his strong arms around me. I couldn't remember the last time I had felt so relaxed. I knew he was about to fall asleep, if he hadn't already, and I wanted to sleep too. I was playing with his short, dark hair and responded:  
  
"Good night." In my mind I added: "Love you, Brian", but didn't say it. If he was still awake, he would've been pissed. He hated me telling him that.   
  
'I love you' were the words I wanted to hear from him. But there were another two words I wanted to hear too. 'Good night'. If he didn't say it, I felt like he was thinking about other stuff and didn't bother to tell me he was about to fall asleep. Sometimes he drifted to sleep without any intentions, and then I of course forgave him. But every night we went to sleep, I wanted him to tell me good night; it told me I was the last thing on his mind.   
  
Sometimes he even said 'Sweet dreams'. It always made me smile. He didn't seem to realize how awkwardly the word sweet fitted the image most people had of him. Most people wouldn't have been able to put Brian and sweet in the same sentence. Lucky for him I wasn't most people. I knew he could be nice and sweet, if he wanted to; mostly he didn't want to. Mostly he thought the people he saw weren't worth anything sweet. I was glad he found me worth it. With that thought, I whispered:  
  
"Sweet dreams, Brian", and giggled quietly. He didn't say anything and I wasn't expecting him to; I figured he was already asleep.   
  
I was a little surprised to feel him move a little; but then I realized he just changed into a more comfortable position without waking up. I went on playing with his hair and kissed him lightly on his forehead. He was breathing evenly. I closed my eyes, hoping to fall asleep as well.   
  
It didn't work. I lay awake. Weird, usually it was easy for me to fall asleep. I couldn't move - Brian was holding me tightly - and I didn't want him to wake up. He looked so peaceful when he slept. Nor did I want to get out of the bed; it was so nice and I felt so good in Brian's arms.   
  
Brian murmured something in his sleep. I realized it was my name. It looked like he was worried, sad, calling my name out, louder every time.   
  
At least he dreamed of me!  
  
I kissed him on his forehead and whispered:  
  
"It's okay, Brian, it's okay, I'm here."  
  
It seemed to calm him down. He held me possessively now, like I was all he had. Maybe I was, I thought. Maybe I meant more to him that he told me. I certainly hoped so. I thought - I hoped - he loved me, but I didn't know for sure. It made me a little uneasy every now and then, not knowing what went on inside his head. Not knowing where I stood. He knew exactly where *he* stood; he was the thing I loved most in this entire world. I would've given up anything to be with him forever. If I could be the person he loved. But no, "Brian Kinney doesn't do love". Jesus, why did it have to be so hard? Why did he mess things up with me all the time? I didn't always know if he wanted me, wanted me to come here. I was not at all sure what it was we had. It was complicated; relationships are complicated.   
  
Brian would've killed me for using the r-word, even if it was just in my mind.   
  
Brian Kinney. Brian fucking Kinney. Brian the adorable. He was perfect for me. He just didn't think I was perfect for him. Yeah, okay, so maybe he was scared, scared of letting me in. Letting me know how he felt. Christ, he was probably scared to death. I was too close to him. Sometimes he looked at me like he was wondering if I could read his thoughts. Sometimes I believed I could. It was all in those eyes, those hazel eyes that stared at me so... earnestly. His eyes gave him away - his eyes gave his *thoughts* away.   
  
Yet I couldn't count on those eyes; I couldn't believe he loved me. I didn't dare to - if I had found out he didn't I would've killed myself. I wanted him to love me. I wanted it *so* much. Him. Brian Kinney. My loved - and loving? - boyfriend. Yes, the b-word, Brian would've strangled me for that.  
  
That was also annoying; he didn't let me talk about it. Every time I tried he just got up and went away. He didn't want to discuss relationships or boyfriends or love. Hell, he didn't want to talk about *anything*. Talking always seemed to bother him. He always said I talk too much.  
  
I could remember the times I had tried to picture the man of my dreams. That man was more romantic, more talkative, more encouraging, and less sarcastic. But I hadn't chosen to fall for Brian! It just had happened. I could still remember the look he had on his face when he saw me for the first time. And I had discovered that falling in love only takes a second; it had happened to me. The very next day I knew I loved him. It took him quite a lot longer to realize that he loved me - if he *had* realized it. If he *did* love me.   
  
I hate relationships. They are so hard. You can never be good enough in relationships. The other person is always worth more than what you have to give. I didn't know if Brian thought about it that way, though. Maybe he thought I was worth more than what he had to give. Yeah, well, I wasn't. Even if I was I didn't want anyone else; I wanted him. I loved him.   
  
I loved him.   
  
I hoped he loved me too.   
  
I told myself he did. I whispered it to Brian's ear: "You love me." No reaction, he was fast asleep. I wanted to sleep too and squeezed my eyes shut. I pictured Brian in front of me, hoping I'd dream of him. Like he had dreamed of me. He dreamed of me. I loved him.  
  
"Good night", I whispered once more and finally fell asleep.  
  
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